Lessons in Humility

Alternate title:  Proof That my (Almost) 4 Year Old Stepson is Smarter Than me.....

Mood:  humble, happy, hopeful

I have to admit, I never wanted children.  Publicly anyway.  As I've gotten older I've realized that not wanting children was indeed a defense mechanism.  If I say I don't want any then how can I possibly be disappointed when I don't have any?  I do have one, though.  Malcolm may not be my son by blood or biology, but in my heart I know we were meant to be in each other's lives.  

Reason #1 I know this to be true?  He forces me to learn something new every single day.  And if we're being completely honest I learn something new about 20 times a day when I'm with him.  My current favorite example happened last night.  Last month my mom shipped her old Clarisonic face brush to me as I was having a horrid time with my face breaking out, but could not afford to purchase one myself.  Last month is the most important part of that sentence.  I have been using this for a full month.  30 days.  I've been cleansing morning and night religiously with this thing.  I just yesterday learned that there is more than 1 speed.  How did I learn this?  Malcolm picked it up.  That's it.  Withing 10 seconds of having it turned on he managed to show me that there is more than 1 setting.  Why had it never occurred to me to press that damn button a second time?

Which leads me to reason #2 that I know we are destined to be lifelong friends.  He makes me wonder.  I took a course in seminary on wonder.  What wonder is, how to encourage it, how to take time to wonder.  It seemed so logical and smart and easy at age 23, having never been outside of an academic setting.  I would sit in class and think that of course we all needed to stop and smell the proverbial roses, why on earth was I earning credit for this class?  Then life happened.  5 years of work and general living and not being an official student later, I wish I would remember to smell those roses.  Or to look at the snow outside and think not of the delays and headaches that it will result in, but how infinitely amazing it is that there is 13 inches on the ground and not one single flake is the same as another.   Malcolm is a constant reminder that the world is full of things to marvel at.  From the universal and deeply meaningful to remembering that it's okay to experiment with everyday items just to "see what happens."

And the third and most important reason I know that Malcolm was more than a huge bonus to meeting and marrying Jeff?  I love him.  It may seem like that reason doesn't make sense.  But to me, it does.  I love this child.  This child that did not grow inside me, nor did I ever see in infancy.  This child that could already walk and punch and argue when we met.  This child that teaches me all the time that I am capable of more.  I am so much more than what I limit myself to.  Jeff tells me this, my parents and sister tell me this, it is something I "know."  Yet for some reason when this realization comes from Malcolm it clicks.  I have a sudden, fleeting moment of clarity that whatever horrible thing is happening at this exact second is just a speck of dust on the "big picture" of our lives.  I have gained patience that I never thought I would have.  And love that is so pure and real that wondering at it now, tears of joy fall from my eyes.

Parenthood, and step-parenthood in particular, is trial by fire.  There is nothing to be done except do and then pray that you're doing something right.  Judging by Malcolm Jeff has done a great job, and the way he relates to me I think maybe I'm not doing too shabby.  I know that this is a lifelong job, and I am already dreading Malcolm circa age 12...but today I am so blessed to be spending time with him.  Teaching him.  Loving him.  But most importantly, learning and growing from him.  

I Survived Christmas...and the Apocalypse

Mood:  hopeful, excited

Well readers, I survived Christmas.  And if you're reading this you have also come out alive.  To be honest this year was my best Christmas ever.  Jeff and Malcolm and I were all supposed to make the trek to Pennsylvania to be with my family for Christmas but we stayed in Iowa instead.  Jeff got a new job (YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY) in November and we didn't feel comfortable requesting vacation time that quickly.

So another Christmas in Iowa for me.  It was spectacular though.  First, even though I miss my family like crazy, I know my parents will agree that not having to travel during the holidays is truly a blessing in itself.  Not having to haul Malcolm and his gazillion toys to the east coast and then haul a gazillion and 10 toys back home was quite a relief.  Secondly, the amount of time it takes to travel seriously cuts into actually celebrating the holidays.  If Jeff and Malcolm and I drive we are looking at 2 days to PA and 2 days back to IA.  If we fly then it's 2 days of being at airports and driving.  Not a bad deal, but still 2 days that we don't get to spend with friends or family or enjoying the holidays. 

Lastly, this is Jeff and I's first Christmas with Malcolm as a married couple.  Essentially it was our first Christmas as a family, as last year we celebrated a week later.  Sure it's just a day to Malcolm who isn't 4 yet...but it does hold weight for me.  

So once the end of the world came and went I started preparing for Christmas 2012...Lilland style.  I've never made sugar cookies from scratch before but since Jeff can't have any dairy I had to figure it out.  Not so hard...and about 6 dozen cookies later I think I did pretty well.  We wrapped gifts, wrote cards, and decided which cookies to leave out for Santa.  Jeff and I sat together on Christmas Eve after family members departed for the evening and did nothing.  It was perfect.

I woke up before Malcolm or Jeff on Christmas, and the kind of excitement I remember feeling as a kid was present.  The pit of your stomach excitement where you can't wait to get started with the day.  Trust me, I like to kill as much time in bed under warm covers as possible in the morning, but I couldn't wait to hop out of bed and enjoy the morning.  We got Malcolm up and did just that.

The joy of watching a child on Christmas morning is so unlike anything that I have ever experienced.  It was the first time in my whole life (I'm sad to admit this) that I truly didn't care at all if there was a single present for me.  All I wanted was to watch Malcolm smile and fist pump with joy and continue to say "YESSSSSSSSS" forever.  Last year he was still young enough that unwrapping wasn't that fun for him.  This year?  Oh, he loves it.  We opened presents, played with presents, and my mother in law made fresh cinnamon rolls.  The only thing that could have made it more perfect would have been to have my family sitting in the same room.  Alas, life isn't perfect.

Now that I've survived Christmas I'm finding myself with a renewed joy.  With a happier spirit.  I'm still working on becoming who I want to be...but I have a better idea.  I want to be a better person, for Malcolm.  And I think I have a few ideas as to how to better myself.  

I pray you all came through the holidays with a spirit of laughter and love.  And probably some awesome presents.  And if this year sucked, next year will be better!  Plus, you survived the end of the world with flying colors so not everything is terrible!  

Okay....Here Goes

Mood:  ....

I'm leaving my mood blank.  Not because I don't have one, mainly because I have too many at any given time right now.

I haven't blogged in 3 months.  I haven't done much of anything I'm proud of in three months.  In fact I'm not sure I've really done ANYTHING in three months.

Life has a funny way of getting away from you.  I suspect all of us feel this way at some point or another.  I certainly feel that way now.  In November my graduating high school class celebrated our 10 year reunion.  10 years?  How did that time just disappear?  

For the past few days I've been doing some pretty serious self reflection.  I've made some choices recently which forced my hand in the self examination arena.  Which, at my best moments, I am truly thankful for.

I'm probably not a bad person.  I'm certainly not the worst person to live...but I don't feel like a good person either.  I don't feel good about myself.  In the last 8 hours or so I've realized I can continue to feel that way or I can continue to do the painful work of continuing to look at who I am.  Who I want to be.  And I want to be good.  I want to be somebody that my husband and stepson and parents and siblings are proud of.  I want to be somebody that I am proud of.

This takes work.  And it takes a starting place.  I have no idea where to begin.  But I am reminded of a quote from an art book I loved reading in college.  There was a dog pictured with his face to the second step of a staircase (incidentally the title of the book is Face to Face with the Second Step).  The quote below it read...and as I can't find the exact quote this may just be the basic idea behind it...: 

Still, you know you have to start somewhere. And asking a question is as good a place as any even if you KNOW the for now, silence is all you will hear.

Friends, readers, internet land...that's where I am.  I have nothing but questions.  Some that I've imposed upon myself.  Others that I ponder.  Many that may never be met with anything but silence.  

I'd like to say that THIS time I will ask all the scary and hard questions.  God, life, science, nature, politics...ALL those life questions.  I won't.  But that's okay.  As long as I can start to ask the questions I need to in order to discover my truth...I'm going to be okay.  As long as I ask questions that keep leading myself and my family forward in a positive direction I'm okay. And as long as I keep getting up, breathing in and out, and putting one foot in front of the other I'm okay.

I pray you are too during this holiday season.  I am going to try to return to my nice things daily routine of blogging.  I need that for myself.  And it was nice to know others cared and were reading. 

Blessings. 

I (still) Do

Mood:  blessed


Jeff - 

One year ago I walked down the aisle to your smiling face.  I was so sure I would cry.  As I stood listening to our prelude music and my father gave me my "something old" 

(the "it's a girl pin" they received and my hospital bracelet from the day I was born)

I sobbed.  I honestly was unsure whether I would even be able to use a steady voice.  As I heard "Here Comes My Girl" finish I felt so....right and at peace that I glanced at my dad, saw him smile, and couldn't wait to see your face.  I saw you smile, saw Malcolm look at me....and I knew in that instant that my life was forever changed for the better.  

I knew on our second date that you were the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.  Your passion, humor, responsibility, and smile are just a few of the things that cemented this realization.  

So here is a brief history of us in photos:

third date...and first picture of us EVER

seconds after getting engaged.

our engagement photography session

mr. and mrs.

annnnnnnnnnnnd.....

me...just a few seconds ago

One year ago today I felt like a princess.  And I married you, my prince.  We sipped champagne from my dream Swarovski crystal flutes and I danced with you in a beautiful dress as you smiled.  Tonight, I'm wearing yoga pants.  I have on a t-shirt, no makeup, and glasses.  Yet, as we sipped champagne and ate a piece of our wedding cake...I feel the exact same way that I did one year ago today.  Like a princess, with you as my prince.

I still have butterflies in my stomach when I think of you.  My face still lights up when somebody says your name or you enter a room.  So, Jeff, I STILL do.  I still promise every single thing that I vowed to keep close to my heart at our wedding...and tonight I promise even more.

We've talked about the common wisdom that the first year of marriage is the hardest.  We haven't had the easiest of times every single day, but I find it hard to believe that marriage only gets easier.  Because regardless of the fight, the words, the hurt feelings...it's always temporary.  And I cannot imagine a life that you are not a part of.  

Jeff, I STILL do.  I still cannot believe how lucky I am to fall asleep next to you every single night and wake up to you every morning.  I thank God each day that you are the one who loves watching stupid tv shows and youtube videos with me.  I am thrilled that it's your hand that holds me when I cry, and your voice that soothes me.  

I know that life won't always be easy.  I know that marriage requires a life of hard and constant work, and sometimes I slack off.  But I also know that there is something magical about us, and that you make me want to be a woman that I only dreamed of being before meeting you.  Thank you for loving me.  Thank you for inspiring me.  Thank you for choosing me.  Thank you for making me feel like a princess, even when I'm wearing yoga pants.  I love you.

Zooey 101

Mood:  anxious


Monday is over!  It wasn't a bad Monday to be perfectly honest, but I got super anxious tonight.  Like, my chest is tight and keeping an even and steady breath actually takes work at the moment.  I have no clue where this anxiety came from.  Or what could have triggered it.  Work was fine.  I felt semi-productive today, and Jeff and I went out for Chinese (my go to comfort food!).  So this random super anxiety is both unwelcome and unwarranted.

I'm sitting here attempting to calm down, and it's working a bit.  Something that is helping me:

That, dear readers, is the little princess that is Zooey Lilland.  All 2.5 pounds of her.  She got weighed on the cat scale...that's how little she is.  Though, comparing her to this:

...she is HUGE!  Okay.  Perhaps huge isn't the right word, but oh my goodness is she getting big fast!  It's so amazing to watch her grow...and I will continue to say she looks huge to me.  I can't wait to see who she turns out to be as a dog.  I'm hoping she learns the word "no," and that she starts sleeping through the night...but pretty much everything else can stay!  And she can continue to get (a little bit) bigger since my awesome sister (and her Pomeranian princess, Maddie) sent some super cute things for Zooey to grow into!  

This little fluff ball is a wonderful reminder of the (almost) year that Jeff and I have spent married.  In some ways our marriage is an odd parallel to Zooey's growth as a puppy, we had to learn boundaries, saying and hearing "no" included.  Granted I didn't ever have to tell Jeff not to chew my shoes, but you get the idea.  

Happy Monday everyone!  And may you find something that centers you in times of great stress or anxiety as well!

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad...2012 edition

Mood:  homesick...but blessed

I shared a quote yesterday on my facebook with a photo of my parents and Jeff and I at our wedding.  It was everything I felt at that moment, and the photo was important.  The quote I posted was:

"the ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned." - maya angelou

Growing up is so bizarre.  In a lot of ways I don't feel any older than I did when I graduated from college.  I'm still figuring out what I want to be when I grow up.  I still giggle every single time I hear the word "balls."  I still love everything glittery, and pink.  And I still throw random dance parties by myself when the mood strikes.

Then there is the fact that the latest I have slept in in the past week is 7:00am.  My knee swells every single time it is going to rain (thanks skiing injury).  A night full of drinking and staying up late now means the next day I'm pretty much useless and my head hurts rather than resuming activities as normal.  

Perhaps though I feel most grown up when it comes to my family.  I have an understanding of what it takes to be a wife, and a mother in addition to being a sister, and a daughter.  

So here's where the quote fits.  I miss my parents, and let's not even talk about how badly I miss my sister.  The thing is, I always feel guilty in missing "home."  I have such an amazing family right here that I just feel badly saying I miss the east coast.  It's a vicious cycle...I miss home and feel badly then miss home more because I'm feeling badly about missing home.  Did that sentence even make sense?  Anyway.  

I wanted to let you all know that today marks 29 years of marriage for my mother and father.  

Jeff and I are approaching our 1st anniversary!  I pray that in 28 more years we look (and are) as in love as my mother and father are.  So here's where the quote, the pictures, missing home, and my awesome family all fit together:

Mom and Dad - 

You are the reason that I am living today.  There is nothing in this world that I will ever be able to do to repay you for all of the amazing things that you have done for me (oh the beautiful wedding!).  One of the things I'm starting to realize is that as a parent, it's never about repayment.  It's about the joy of watching your child/ren master things.  Watching them learn and grow and become responsible for their own happiness.  Perhaps that is one of the greatest lessons you've given me (that I've resisted for years and years and years).

I know that marriage is a journey.  And I thank you, from the very bottom of my heart, for teaching that to me.  It wasn't just a lesson of words.  You imparted this wisdom to me just by living.  Not every day was full of laughter and romance.  Some days suck, but that's okay.  As long as you're willing to wake up the next day and start again...there is love and hope present.  

You taught me that family is of the utmost importance.  And you gave me the freedom to know that my new and young family is every bit (if not more) important than the one I have lived in for 28 years. Some days all I want to do is crawl into your bed, flip on 7th Heaven, and snuggle in with popcorn.  On those days I do my best to remind myself that it's okay to be sad that I can't do that, and then be grateful that I even have that wonderful of a memory to calm me.  

You two are the most important adults in my life, and you always have been.  I will always admire and respect you (who would have heard me saying that at 21?).  I will always be indebted to you for your lessons in laughter, humility, and perseverance. 

Happy Anniversary!  I love you two more than I could possibly begin to write.  You two are a beautiful couple, who made a beautiful family, and live a truly beautiful life.  Here's to 29 more years.  I pray every single night that I am able to celebrate this milestone with Jeff, and with the same grace that you two show each and every day.  I love you.  Forever and always!

Oh, Baby

Mood:  anxious, happy



This may be the most personal post that I have authored to date.  It's been a long month being away from the blog.  I've wanted to write, but I haven't been able to sit down and write anything coherent.  The truth is, I find it hard to write about one thing when in reality I'm thinking about something else.  For the past month there has been one thing on my mind and in my heart:  babies.

I think it's pretty normal after you've been married for a bit to assume that people are going to ask "soooooo, when are you two having kids?"  This question seems to come up a lot.  I don't have an answer to it.  I wish more than anything in this world that I did, but I just don't.  

Anyway.  I've been avoiding blogging about having a baby for a whole month.  I can't any longer.  There is nothing on TV this afternoon and Malcolm is down for a nap.  Jeff and I have a thing for Discovery Fit and Health so I flipped to that.  On Discovery Fit and Health right now (literally as I type) is a show titled Bio Moms.  Naturally I decide to watch.  And I was doing fine with the whole show until a birth scene.  No, there was nothing ewwwie or gross (since I can be rather squeamis)...it was just utterly heartbreaking.  

I can't imagine placing a baby up for adoption and yet that is not why I found my eyes brimming with tears.  Rather, my stomach knotted up in pain for the adoptive mother.  She was in the birthing suite with the bio mom and as the bio mom screamed in pain, the adoptive mother wept.  And I want to cry for her, with her.  

Let me state very plainly that I do not want to diminish the role of the birth mother.  I do not want to appear callous to the pain that she is suffering, both physical and emotional.  But I identify with the adoptive mother.  Why?  Because that could be me.  

Without discussing the level of trying Jeff and I are or are not engaged in....there is a possibility that I may never be a birth mother.  I've known this since my sixteenth birthday. Seriously, that's when the OB broke the news to me (uhhh crappy present Dr. H).  And at that point in my life it didn't matter.  I was 16, I had no boyfriend or sex life...or even the desire to be a mother.  I have always been a girly girl (to the extreme) but I never really imagined myself as mother.  I played teacher, but I don't remember extensive games of "mother."  I liked my American Girl doll because she was pretty and I could change her outfits more than for the fact that I could pretend to be her mommy.  So when, at 16, I learned this about myself...it seemed inconsequential.  

However, it affected me more than I was willing to admit.  I have lived my adult life as if there was an expiration date on my foot regarding my fertility.  The age of expiration has come and gone.  And now, happily married, I find myself succumbing to the external pressure to have a child.  That's out of my control, I know...and I am trying to stay positive.  But as that adoptive mother shook with sobs...something in me broke.

Having, or not having a child is such a personal thing.  Thus I have stayed away from the topic on this blog as much as possible.  But everyday in some form I encounter this question. And the conversation is pretty much always the same.

"So, when are you guys having a child?"
"Oh, we are just adjusting to married life...hopefully some day"
"Well, are you thinking about it"  and then there is generally a comment such as "well you know, you're almost 30 and...."

I know that this is never meant as criticism.  Nor do people realize that there may be a reason as to why a couple is not having children.  These things are so intensely private, especially for one struggling with the knowledge that this conversation may end one day in me having to say "We aren't having a child because I can't."

As I watched this woman...who was unable to conceive...go through this I could not shake the feeling of defeat.  To have to stand there watching someone go through labor that they view as an annoyance (the bio mom stated this) when you would have given anything in the world to be the one in that bed....it just broke my heart.  Sure there is more to being a mother than carrying and giving birth to a child, but what a distinct honor and blessing it is to be able to do so. 

Again, without discussing anything about Jeff and I and where we are...I haven't given up hope that one day when the time is right we will have a child.  Until then, I have to continue to believe that we are where we are supposed to be.